


Distractions

by songofthe52hertzwhale



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, No actual smut sadly, Referenced Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 19:52:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofthe52hertzwhale/pseuds/songofthe52hertzwhale
Summary: Arthur is widely regarded as the best Point in the business. He doesn't miscalculate. He doesn't make mistakes.So when he nearly gets them all dumped headfirst into limbo during the Fischer job, he takes it a little hard.Naturally, it's all Eames' fault.





	Distractions

"Darling," Eames tries for the fifth time, nudging a cooling cup of tea across the table, "You DO know it wasn't your fault, don't you? We're all alive, and quite a bit more well off, and nobody blames you in the slightest."

"I should've found it," Arthur says, with the barest hint of a pout in his voice, "I could've gotten us all KILLED."

"But you didn't," Eames points out helpfully. Arthur's scowl merely deepens.

"I'm supposed to be the best."

Eases sighs, abandoning all hope of Arthur drinking the tea. He takes a sip himself, instead, and helps himself to a cracker.

"Even the best muck it all up."

"Not me."

The teacup slams against the table, fragile porcelain threatening to break under Eames's grip.

"For goddsake, Arthur, stop bloody moping. You missed something. Once. One mistake in a long illustrious career of perfection."

"I fucked up because I got DISTRACTED, Eames. Because I couldn't keep it in my fucking pants."

Oh. OH. Eames's lips quirk, which just makes Arthur grow more frustrated.

"I'm sorry darling, would you mind repeating that?"

"You heard me."

Eames rises to his feet, fingers dancing across the wood of Arthur's makeshift desk as he moves closer.

"I didn't, though," he says, teasing, "Did you just say that I was so much of a distraction that I caused the infallible Arthur to cock up?"

Arthur glares, sinking lower in his chair.

"I mean," Eames continues, "I always did think I was...gifted, I suppose you could say. With my hands. My mouth. My cock."

"Shut the fuck up," Arthur hisses. His body betrays him, a red flush creeping up his neck.

"Oh but that's not what you said last week, is it, darling? Please more, Eames. I wanna hear you, Eames. Make me scream, Eames."

Arthur kicks out at him, one perfectly polished shoe connecting with Eames's shin.

"I don't sound like that," he says, petulantly.

"Oh, but you do," Eames smirks and reaches for the other man, wraps a hand around Arthur's tie to pull him near, "For someone so bloody terrifying, you do beg so prettily."

Arthur's eyes are dark now, his breath coming in a little harsher.

"Beg for me, darling," Eames whispers, leaning in to press his lips to Arthur's jawline, "Beg for me."

Arthur brings his hands to Eames's chest, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He whimpers, slightly, just quiet enough that Eames would've missed it if he weren't listening.

"Beg," he says again, sliding a hand down across narrow hips, to rest on Arthur's lovely arse.

"Beg," he says, tangling his other hand in Arthur's hair, tugging just so until Arthur moans.

"Eames," he says, finally, beautifully, " _Please."_


End file.
